


A Lady and Her Knight

by PvtSnail



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Assassin - Freeform, Childhood Friends, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers?, Raelle is a knight in shining armor, Slow Burn, Violence, but not too slow because I'm impatient, eventual light smut i'm still undecided but the warning will stay for that, they're 16/17 in the beginning but will be aged up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:35:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PvtSnail/pseuds/PvtSnail
Summary: Raelle was supposed to be her little secret, a close guarded secret, a beautiful knight with short blonde hair that was just hers.And the world wanted to take that away too.orRaelle and Scylla meet as a young squire and a young woman when Scylla's village is being burnt to the ground along with her parents.
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 70
Kudos: 165





	1. A Burning Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Y'all liked the sound of this so here it is, I'll try to update at least once a week, either wednesdays or fridays since that kinda lines up nicely with my uni schedule :) enjoy my loves!

“Collar!” A loud, booming voice shouted over the downpour of the rain, it was like thunder, echoing loudly, demanding to not go unheard. She whipped her head up, watching as a white stallion made its way towards her, hooves smashing against the mud caking onto strong legs.

“Yes Sire!?” Raelle yelled back, meeting the eyes of the knight before her. Sir Quartermaine was panting heavily, the effects of the battle showing up on her weary face. 

“Head into the village, tend to the civilians.” Quartermaine didn’t wait for any affirmative, instead she steered her horse away, off back into where the other knights had been fighting, drawing the Camarilla forces away from the village. 

Raelle turned her attention back to the burning village before her, screams had echoed out and the smell of charred flesh hit her nose harshly. She sneezed, and jumped off her horse, tying it’s rope to a random fence before grabbing her bag of supplies.

“Sire sent you in too?” Collar heard the unmistakable voice of Craven, Tally Craven, a fellow squire under Quartermaine’s charge. The redhead was always ecstatic, hyper even in the face of destruction and chaos.

Raelle nodded in response, hauling the strap of her bag onto her right shoulder, wiping at the sweat and grime on her face, and maybe a little bit of blood that was more than likely a mix of hers and one of the fallen Camarilla on the ground.

“And the Bellweather?” Raelle spat earning an annoyed look from Tally.

“With Quartermaine fighting, General would lose her mind if Abigail wasn’t on the front lines. I’ll take the South West, you got the North East?” Raelle rolled her eyes, of course Abigail would be sent to the front even if she wasn’t ready, and damn Quartermaine couldn’t stop it, not if General Bellweather was one of the leading commanders of the fight. 

“Meet you back here friend!” Raelle yelled out as the two sprung into action, both with at least a dagger on their belt, just in case.

The West Village was a poor farming community, although more important to Salem than Queen Alder would ever admit, it was beautiful. Raelle had been here once before, it’s location close enough to the West Coast that you could smell some of the beach nearby. The buildings were crafted excellently, at least much better than Cession homes. 

The village was normally vibrant, happy, light, and free. Yet, looking around her, Raelle couldn’t help but frown as once gallant buildings had been burned, flames still dancing against the rain and screams of pain echoing around her. That’s where she was needed, wherever someone was screaming.

Raelle made her way towards what was once the church, around the remains of the building were people, crying out in agony. Her heart lurched for a moment in her chest as she approached, palms open to show Quartermaine’s mark on her drenching tunic. The villagers relaxed, and Raelle offered a smile as she set her bags down, ready to get to work.

“I’m here to help tend to your wounds as best as I can brothers and sisters!” Raelle called out, and soon she had a line. Stitches, bandages, bones poking through, so much to fix and sew back together. Yet she worked, brows knitted together in concentration, assessing each person with the same amount of care as the first. 

After what felt like days Raelle finally finished, she sighed, leaning her head against her arm for a moment of rest before standing back up, offering her hand to the man she’d finished stitching.

“Thank you Sire!” The main groaned out, and Raelle groaned inwardly herself.

“Please, it’s just Raelle, sir.” The man flashed his yellow teeth at her, wincing as he stepped towards her to offer his hand in a handshake.

“Thank you Raelle, Her majesty is lucky to have you in her service.” Raelle nodded at him, watching as he limped away, she sighed returning the contents of her bag back to their assigned places.

Throwing her bag back onto her shoulder once more Raelle scanned the area around her, she made her way to the outskirts of the village, peering into homes, checking alleyways and bushes, looking for any sign of someone needing her help. 

It was just about nightfall, the sky was almost too dark to see, and Raelle was ready to head back towards her horse, back to Quartermaine’s and her unit’s side where good meat and wine would be waiting for her when she heard it: The quietest of sniffles under a pile of rubble.

Raelle swallowed thickly, making her way towards the small collapsed home just on the outskirts of the north end. There beneath the rubble Raelle saw the small figure of a girl, no doubt her age, foot trapped against the weight of lumber and metal. 

The girl was crying hard, her whimpers pained, attention quickly jumping to Raelle as the sound of her foot hitting wet grass and mud met her ears. Raelle stopped mid step, eyes looking at the beauty before her. 

This girl had long and free dark brown hair, eyes the deepest shade of blue she’d ever seen, and an intense look that commanded her attention. She was a young siren in the making, a blessing from the Goddess.

A whimper took her out of her thoughts, and with a shake of her head Raelle quickly fell into action once more, she kneeled down next to the beauty, eyes afraid to leave the blues that captured them.

“Allow me to help, my lady.” A quick nod met her request and Raelle took in a deep breath and grunted out as she lifted the rubble just enough for the girl to wiggle her foot free. 

Raelle grunted once more, throwing the heavy rock from the pair before she turned her eyes back on the beauty before her, the maiden was still crying as she looked into the rubble and that’s when Raelle saw it, a blackened hand, charred from fire sticking out.

“Goddess protect.” Raelle mumbled under her breath, and the girl screamed out a terrible wail that hit deep into Raelle’s chest. Her breath hitched as the maiden flung her arms around Raelle, clutching tightly and burrowing her face into her tunic. She stiffened, but after a moment relaxed, arms circling tight against the brunette.

“Come, my lady, let’s get you away from here.” 

“My parents, my parent’s Sire I-” Raelle cupped the girl’s cheeks, nodding with understanding.

“It’s okay, come now, do you have anywhere safe to stay?” 

“They’re all I-all I had.” The brunette choked and Raelle bit the inside of her cheek. Perhaps she could convince Quartermaine to take her back to Salem Town, if the girl was close to her age as she suspected they could find her an apprenticeship, anything truly to help her.

“Come my Lady, I can promise you a warm belly and company if you wish.” She watched with careful eyes as the girl looked back in the direction of her home, destroyed. Blue eyes met hers and nodded firmly.

They started back towards south of the village, back towards where her horse had been left along with Tally’s. Except after a few steps the girl cried out in pain, and Raelle narrowed her eyes before carefully slipping the girl’s arms around her, hoisting her up in a bridal style carry. 

The two were quiet, Raelle listened to the sounds of her sniffles, heart clenching painfully as each one met her ear.

“Almost there My Lady.” Raelle spoke out softly, looking down briefly to see the girl looking up at her.

“Thank you again, Sire.” Her voice was quiet like a melody.

“I’m no sire.” Raelle laughed out, hiding the wince in her face as her arms stiffened up.

“And I’m no lady.” She retorted quickly, Raelle quirked up a brow. 

“Aren’t you as quick as a fox then.” 

“Just as you are as strong as an ox!” The girl laughed out and Raelle decided she wanted to hear that laugh for as long as she would be lucky enough to live.

Once they finally reached back to Raelle’s horse she noticed the whole troop and tents set up, the smell of food hit against her nose and both girl’s stomachs growled loudly. Raelle set her down, taking a quick bandage out of her bag, proceeding to wrap it around the girl’s ankle softly. 

“This should help..” Raelle trailed off, searching for a name.

“Scylla.” She helpfully supplied, with a small smile. 

“This should help, Scylla.” Raelle spoke, testing the name in her mouth, tucking the wrapping, making sure it was tight enough. “I’m Raelle.” 

“Thank you kindly, Raelle.” They were quiet for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes before Raelle politely excused herself, making her way towards Quartermaine’s tent to check in. 

She stood for only a moment before Bellweather came bursting out, face a bright shade of red, blood still on her cheeks.

“Might wanna get that washed Bells-”

“Cut it Shitbird-”

“Enough.” Both girls stiffened as Quartermaine’s voice spoke out from inside the tent, each swallowed in anticipation. “Enter Collar.” Raelle nodded a farewell to Abigail, who looked away and headed towards the line for food. With a quick breath Raelle pushed past the tent flap, finding Quartermaine seated at a desk, quil in hand.

Raelle stood at attention, waiting to be addressed, eyes set forward.

“Report.”

“Sire, the North-East section of the village took a lot of damage, buildings were burnt, people, and the church is in rubble. Civilians in that area have been fixed and tended to.” Quartermaine looked up, taking in her squire for a short moment.

“Very well, good work here today, and on the battlefield. We’ll make a great knight out of you yet.” Raelle nodded, waiting for dismissal when the thought of Scylla outside in the cold night air, hungry and in pain jumped out into her head.

“Sire?” She questioned and Quartermaine looked up once more, eyebrow raised.

“There’s a lady. Just orphaned today, has nowhere to go but is clever like a fox. She’s hungry and scared and has nothing-”

“You wish to take her back to Salem Town?” The question hung in the air.

“Yes. With your approval and if she so desires.” Raelle nodded and Quartermaine had a small smile on her face, one she rarely showed, it caused a shiver to run through Raelle.

“She’s a lass  _ not  _ a lady.” 

“Pardon me sire, but this lass has looks that rival the most noble of our ladies at court, you would forgive me for the mistake.” A snort escaped Quartermaine’s nose and a bellow of laughter sounded out.

“Where you lack in discipline you do make up for in chivalry Raelle. If this-” She paused, shaking her head as the words left her mouth. “If this  _ lady _ , wishes to join our journey back to the Fort, then I approve, however she will fall under you, keep her in line, teach her what she needs to know. Now get out, get some food and rest child.” Raelle smiled and nodded once before turning out and heading back towards Scylla. 

She found Scylla huddled with her knees to her chest, fresh tears marking her cheeks as Tally sat next to her, talking animatedly, only a soft smile finding its way to her lips once she spotted Raelle making her way back towards her.

“Lady.” Raelle greeted, taking her cloak off and offering it to Scylla, the girl smiled, a hint of rose on her drying cheeks as she wrapped it around herself. “Sire Quartermaine approves, you can come back with us to Salem Town if you wish, I have a few connections, I can help you get an apprenticeship-”

“That’s all very kind Sire, but I’m afraid I’m not one for smithing and selling goods.” Raelle ignored Tally’s knowing look, grateful that the Squire stayed silent.

“That’s rubbish, a lady with such quick wit as yours could easily be shaped into a scholar! At least stay a week, and if you do not like it I will personally escort you back.” 

“Very well, but not longer than a week.” Scylla agreed and Raelle beamed, offering her hand to help the girl up.

“Splendid, now allow me to make good on that promise of a warm belly.” Scylla giggled and followed Raelle towards the back of the long line.

\---------

Scylla wasn’t sure what made her so trusting of Raelle, the Squire made the pain melt to nothing but an annoying buzz in her head. She’d come from ashes, bloody and blonde hair twisted wildly to the side, sweat and grime, dirt and unclean hands right to her aid. 

Her parents were gone, they had just been about to start preparations for dinner, Scylla had been anticipating her mother’s return from the field all day, ready to give her a special treat she’d learned to make from the neighbors when the attack came. 

When women in armor doused her home in flames, she remembered the yelling of her mother, begging Scylla to hide. The yells, they were so loud.

_ “Traitors to the crown will be dealt with!”  _

__ _ “We’re just farmers!” _

__ _ “Please sire, I- we have a daughter-” _

__ A scream of flames flickering around skin, skin turning crisp, wails and wails of pain.

_ “We’ll inform Alder-”  _

__ Scylla was torn from her memories of just hours before when she heard Raelle’s voice raised. They’d somehow made it to the front of the line, and Raelle had presented some medal with a brand to the boy.

“The lass belongs to the village, she’ll eat the scraps they have.”

“A village that has been burning all day!” 

“We don’t have the rations to waste-”

“Then she will have mine.” Scylla watched on with intrigue as Raelle clenched her jaw, shoving her medal back into her trouser’s pockets, yanking a bowl away from the makeshift counter. Raelle barely looked at Scylla, still angry as she grabbed her hand, trailing her to the edge of the camp right back to where Tally and another girl sat, a tent now set up close by.

“Here.” Raelle placed her bowl into Scylla’s lap, turning back towards her horse as she unloaded the weight off of the poor animal. 

“I can’t take your rations, you must be exhausted from fighting all day-”

“You have much to learn about Raelle, lass.” Tally laughed out, even Abigail huffed out.

“A stubborn pain in the ass, best just be a good little lass for her knight and eat, let her calm down.” Abigail offered, and Scylla narrowed her eyes, a bit of her own anger filling into her at the insult.

“Pardon me-” Scylla went to defend herself but a strong voice sounded out against the night.

“Sirrah, why don’t you make yourself useful and stop harassing this lady.” Raelle was at her side now, hand holding a bundle of some fabric. 

Abigail bristled at the word, ready to pounce on her if it weren’t for Tally holding her down. 

“It’s either Sir, or Bellweather shitbird, and she isn’t a lady.”

“Yet.” Raelle smiled with determination, and then turned her attention back to Scylla, holding out the fabric. “In case you wanted to change, I have a few spare tunics that you might like to pick from.” 

“I’ll only accept if you share your own ration with me.” Scylla shot back, and Raelle smiled nodding as she sat down next to Scylla, reaching for the spoon. 

The group ate, and although Scylla was still hungry from barely eating much she was happy to watch Raelle interact with, well, what she described as her unit. She liked Tally immediately, the girl was so animated and kind, truly a comfort, and she’d also sat down with her while Raelle went to check in with Quartermaine, making sure that she wasn’t alone. She’d still yet to get a full read on Bellweather, but she had instantly recognized the name, the family manor was right between the village and her favorite beach. Tally and Abigail had headed to bed early, but Scylla and Raelle stayed up talking. 

She’d learned Raelle was roughly sixteen summers, she’d come from some small community in the Cession her mother used to be a knight, until she died in a terrible battle against the Camarilla about a few moons ago. When she reported of age to take on an apprenticeship she’d apparently ended up getting selected for training. It was there that Quartermaine hand picked her after watching the new recruits interact for a week. Being a Cession girl she was new to titles and wars, she liked the smell of the sea, liked things that were pretty, which was said with a wink.

Raelle got to learn about Scylla as well. Scylla told her she was seventeen summers old, that she was supposed to inherit her mother’s farm but now that it was burned, that they were burned… She learned that Scylla liked to spend time in the backwoods, liked to take care of the animals and peer at the bugs and growing fungi. 

“Thank you Raelle, truly it is still quite fresh in my head, but your promise of company has helped, you truly are my knight in shining armor.” Scylla let out a small laugh.

“I understand the death of a parent Scyl, if you find yourself in need of a cry I can offer you my shoulder my lady.” Raelle responded and Scylla smiled, taking the girl up on her offer as she pressed her head against the blonde’s shoulder, tears instantly coming down her face.

Raelle cradled her close, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, as Scylla pressed her head against Raelle’s chest, trying to get impossibly closer to the blonde for comfort. Her sobs were muffled by the tunic, but Raelle could still feel it all around her, and she held on tight. She held on tight to a brunette who after only a few short hours of knowing her, had entirely captivated her.


	2. The Journey Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raelle and Scylla make their way back towards Salem Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allrriggghhtttt So I'm gonna try to update this either once/twice a week, but as school starts up next week we'll see if we can manage to do that! 
> 
> Either way I'll always make sure to have at least two chapters prepped in case of any emergencies that might come up with life! 
> 
> Enjoy my loves :)

Raelle awoke with a sneeze, eyes desperately blinking sleep away as her ears adjusted. She heard the unmistakable sound of a brunette’s laughter. Once Raelle’s eyes finally allowed her to see she found Scylla holding a feather between her fingers, biting her fist to keep from laughing loudly.

It was the last day of their three day journey back to Fort Salem, and the pair's friendship had grown quickly. If you’d ask Tally she’d say the two rascals had their own secret language, which wouldn’t be far from the truth. With one look they both knew what the other was thinking.

“Lady Ramshorn, it is far too early for your shenanigans!” Raelle adopted a deep voice, one particularly close to Quartermaine. Scylla licked her lips and grew a mischievous look.

“You must forgive me Sir Collar-”

“Ah!” Raelle tsked, with a shake of her head. “I am not a Sir, I would be addressed as sirrah.” Scylla looked upset, and Raelle raised a brow.

“Well if you are a sirrah, then I am just a lass.” Her eyes sparkled with challenge, and Raelle met her grin.

“I’m telling you Scyl, you have nothing to worry about, your natural wit will carry you far in court.” 

“Stop practicing your chivalry on me Squire, Quartermaine will be sounding the horn any minute now.” Scylla teased and Raelle stuck her tongue out, tying the strings of her tunic together, both girl’s averting their gaze from the other. 

Raelle left the tent first, making sure to pack hers and Scylla’s shared belongings, which were really Raelle’s but she didn’t mind. With practiced ease the two girls took down the tent, rolling what needed to be stored on the horse. 

Once ready Raelle hopped on, offering her hand out to help Scylla climb on behind her. 

“Have you travelled to Salem Town before?” Raelle asked as they fell in line, following behind Quartermaine’s horse, right next to her unit. Scylla shifted her arms around Raelle’s waist, getting more comfortable, or really as comfortable as she could.

“Not that I can remember, my family tended to stay away from the bigger cities.” Her voice was loud as Scylla’s chin rested against Raelle’s shoulder, eyes watching as they passed through fields and fields of farmland and dirt roads. 

“It’s huge, circles all around Fort Salem, I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around it.” Raelle admitted, feeling Scylla’s cheeks widen with her smile.

“You truly haven’t been a squire for long.” 

“Just a few moons, and Sir Quartermaine is so demanding, I don’t know if I could handle four summers.” Raelle sighed, readjusting her hold on the reins, voice lowered so only Scylla could hear, not that anyone besides maybe Tally would care listening in on her. 

“It’s four summers long?” Scylla asked, mouth agape, and Raelle nodded.

“Four summers training, being spat on, and then we go up before the Queen herself to be knighted. Then there’s the Generals and Biddies-” Raelle didn’t miss the way Scylla shuddered at hearing the term “Biddy.” They were the Queen’s handpicked guard, the most lethal knights, but with the amount of training they do one wouldn’t consider them a knight, they were more terrifying, savage, knew no mercy.

When one becomes a biddy you don’t come back from that, you give up your entire life, you change completely, you become cold. It’s a knight’s worst nightmare, yet highest honor they could ever dream of having. 

It disgusted Raelle.

“You don’t actually think you’ll be a biddy do you?” Scylla asked, fear laced in her voice.

“It wouldn’t be my choice.” 

They stopped talking, and Raelle grew upset. 

_ It wouldn’t be my fault? I wouldn’t be allowed to turn Alder down. They’d kill my family for it, find some sort of way to force me into it.  _

__ _ There’s no choice to being a biddy. _

The group stopped, snapping Raelle from her thoughts. Quartermaine turned her horse around, halting her three squires before turning to look back at one of the other senior knights that had come with on their mission.

The two spoke with hushed whispers, Quartermaine nodded quickly, and watched as the rest of the group started back towards the fort, leaving the Bellweather Unit and Quartermaine together.

“Squires, it’s been requested that we help Madam L’amara’s research patrol. They have heavy equipment that requires our aid. Miss Ramshorn, I can take you to Salem Town-”

“Wait!.” Scylla wrapped her arms tighter against Raelle. Even if she seemed to be upset at their prior conversation, Scylla only felt fear at the possibility of being separated from her not-knight. 

“Pardon me Sire, I just do not wish to be a burden for you. I swear to stay out of your way, there’s no need to worry about me.” 

“If I may Sire, it might do some good to allow Lady- Miss Ramshorn.” Raelle quickly corrected herself, feeling a slight pinch of Scylla’s fingers playfully against her side. “To witness the type of work she may be completing as an apprentice to a scholar.” 

Quartermaine watched the two with a knowing look in her eye, she hid her amusement well, making sure to keep her stoic face plain before nodding slightly. 

“Very well, excellent idea Collar.” The praise slapped Raelle across her face, and it was only for Scylla snapping her out of it that she managed to not fall behind her unit as they raced towards Seed’s River, where L’amara was no doubt stationed. 

It was about another twenty-minute ride out of the way, and soon they had managed to spot the group of scholars, and of course the Madam L’amara, an advisor to Queen Alder herself. 

“Sir Quartermaine!” Madam L’amara cheered out with glee. Quartermaine dropped from her horse, her Squires following the example, watching as the Knight greeted the Advisor.

“Madam L’amara, it is always a pleasure to see you.” L’amara rolled her eyes and Raelle couldn’t help the smile that flashed on her face as she looked at her unit mates knowingly. 

_ “Watch and learn ladies, chivalry is one of the biggest parts of becoming a knight. Once you’ve learned how to charm the pants off anyone then you’re halfway there.”  _ Quartermaine’s voice echoed in Raelle’s head, and she quirked a brow, watching with amusement. 

“Chivalry lesson I see. How much do you want to bet they’ve fucked?” Abigail chuckled quietly, earning the attention of Scylla.

“Forgive me, but what?” Scylla asked and Abigail smirked.

“Part of being a knight is chivalry and charm Miss Ramshorn. She likes to show off every now and then to ‘train’ us.” Abigail whispered back and Scylla raised her brows. She knew of course that chivalry was a part but what they were implying… She looked at Raelle who grew a shade of red.

“Please, how many times have I asked you to call me Izadora.” 

“I’m afraid that I am too dumb to have kept track.” 

“Nonsense, you’re handling four squires! That’s quite impressive.” The three straightened up as the two women looked over at the young girls, even Scylla stood a little taller. 

“Just three. Miss Ramshorn, come here.” Scylla looked to Raelle, who offered her a small smile of encouragement and gentle shove towards the Knight. 

With tentative steps Scylla made her way, standing at an acceptable distance before lowering her head to both women.

“I believe this lass would have great promise for apprenticeship.” Raelle snapped her head up, Quartermaine trusted Raelle’s intuition that much? As if hearing her thoughts she felt Quatermaine’s eyes on her, and she might’ve missed the wink she was given before the conversation continued on.

“Is that so? Well Miss Ramshorn, what programs of ours interests you? I have managed to gain a few connections at court.” L’amara addressed her, and Scylla swallowed thickly. 

“Yes, uh, well Sirrah Collar informed me that you’re known for research on fungi, specifically it’s benefits towards medicine, and while my education may have been slightly lacking I’ve found biology to be incredibly fascinating and would love-” As Scylla rambled on Raelle watched as Madam L’amara looked up at Quartermaine, something in their gaze, like their own language was spoken before L’amara returned her full attention to the seventeen year old girl rambling on about mushrooms and other large words that Raelle didn’t quite recognize all that well. 

“Well for someone lacking a proper education, you are incredibly well spoken Miss. I’d be delighted to partake in more conversations with you, your ideas as well for improving the current world, will you be at court for long?” The question rang out and Raelle couldn’t help the hope that sprung out from her chest as she met Scylla’s eyes. Their own language being spoken between the two.

“Unless some force demands I stay I shall be there for a week.”

“We’ll talk more.” L’amara smiled.

The unit helped the patrol, hauling up their heavy equipment for them, they called them scales, but they didn’t look like lizards to Raelle. Scylla was incredibly alive, she was fascinated by each instrument, unable to keep from asking questions, and when it was time to leave she seemed almost disappointed. Raelle wouldn’t’ve been surprised if the girl would ask to be left behind to conduct her own experiments.

Once back on their horse, and finally close to Salem Town Raelle let out a laugh, Scylla grew confused, tapping onto Raelle’s shoulder which was more of her own personal chin rest by now.

“Have you gone mad Sire?” Scylla asks, causing Raelle to laugh harder.

“Oh my dearest Lady, your mind is too large for this world.” Scylla ignored the weird blush that rose to her cheeks.

“A pity you’ve lost your mind, though there wasn’t much in it to begin with.” Scylla poked and Raelle howled out with laughter once more.

“I wonder if you're as sharp with a sword as you are with your tongue.” Raelle retorted.

“Sometimes I ponder if you’re just hiding your brain from us Raelle.” 

“That’s a secret I wouldn’t dare to share Miss Scylla.” Scylla rolled her eyes, hugging on tighter and blowing into Raelle’s ear to irritate her. 

“And here I thought we wouldn’t keep secrets in this friendship.” 

They had reached the stables, and Raelle waited for Scylla to get down before looking at her with something else deep and serious in her eyes.

“If you asked me to, your Grace, I would spill every secret I’ve ever promised to keep.” Scylla swallowed thickly, a rising heat hitting her face. The title reserved only for the Queen herself being uttered at her so naturally from Raelle with a cession drawl caused her ears to burn. 

“I don’t believe Sir Quartermaine needs to give you any more chivalry lessons, clearly you have a knack for it.” Raelle smiled at that and layed a gentle hand on Scylla’s arm before checking her horse back in with the stable hand. 

When Raelle returned she found Scylla gaping up at the giant walls of the city before them. She remembered that feeling, the pure astonishment and inferiority the entire Capital oozed was overwhelming. 

“Hey Scyl, you’re okay. I’ll be right beside you.” Scylla turned to look at Raelle, really look at Raelle. She was still awkward, arms a little too long, and too small not yet building the muscle a Knight would need. Her hair was long as well, they wouldn’t cut it until later today, it was a rite of passage among knights, showing they’d lived through their first battle. Her face was smooth as well, no flaw in sight, yet her cheeks were still puffy from childhood, she was yet to be a grown woman, still just a girl. 

“Truly, my knight in shining armor.” Scylla teased once more and Raelle smiled brightly at her.

“More like a dirt-stained and sweaty tunic, I’m very gross.” Raelle snorted taking Scylla’s hand in her own.

“No you’re not.” Scylla protested, letting her hands fit together with Raelle’s as her friend led her towards the gates of Salem Town.

“A liar as well, truly Lady Ramshorn, you’ll make an amazing addition to court.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know titles! 
> 
> Advisors (Master/Madam/Ma'am) Generals (General/Master)  
> Scholars (Lady/Lord/Maid/Maiden) *Note that Raelle almost always refers to Scylla as Lady (even tho they're equals and that can be frowned upon if done openly)  
> Squires/Apprentices (Sirrah/Last name)  
> Lower Class (Miss/lass/lad/first name/brother/sister)  
> Knights (Sire/Sir/Sirrah)
> 
> Sire is used when speaking to a superior, Sir is when addressing an equal, sirrah is something that can be offensive (unless that's your literal title) if you are equals
> 
> So Scylla can use Sirrah in reference to Raelle because that's her title, but if Scylla was a sirrah she would say sir, because the recognizes that they are equal.  
> In the first chapter Raelle does this to Abigail, she calls her sirrah even though she would use Sir Bellweather, it's meant to be insulting, but it would've been okay if she was talking about her to another person, it's just not okay when directly to their face.


	3. Salem Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They make it to Salem Town

To call Salem Town big was a very very very large understatement. The city was absolutely huge, bustling with over thousands of people some with the finest silks and others with tears and holes in their dirty tunics. People bumped into each other on the streets, almost causing Scylla to fall and be trampled, if it wasn’t for Raelle’s steady grip on her hand pulling her through, navigating the streets expertly for someone who’d only just started to call Salem home. 

After the fifth time someone bumped into Scylla she finally lost Raelle’s grip, and went flying to the ground, face smacking into the mud. She groaned, lifting herself up, frowning at how dirty Raelle’s tunic now was on her. 

_ Raelle.  _

__ Panic set in around her, where was Raelle if she wasn’t holding her hand? She started breathing heavily, looking around the crowded sea of people for familiar blonde hair when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Pardon me Miss, are you alright?” Scylla turned to see a boy, not quite yet grown if the peach fuzz on his face was any indicator. 

“Yes sir, forgive me I’m new and seem to have lost my friend in the crowd.” Scylla nodded at him, and he laughed. 

“Perhaps I could help a lass such as yourself? Please, call me Byron.” Scylla nodded letting him guide her out of the crowd and back towards what appeared to be a forge. 

“Scylla. Thank you Byron.” He went inside the small building, reassuring Scylla he’d be back in a short moment. 

Scylla leaned against the wood, praying silently that Raelle would find her quickly, she wouldn’t leave her, she’d realized she wasn’t behind her anymore and tear down the town to search for her, at least she believed that Raelle would. 

The clang from the forge drew Scylla’s attention and she found herself leaving where Bryon left her to watch another young boy with curly dirty-blonde hair hammering something. She watched with a new curiosity, her village didn’t have a forge, they’d receive their supplies from somewhere else that Scylla hadn’t really put much thought into before.

“Can I help you miss? I can fetch Father if you’d like to buy something.” His voice was squeaky, jumping around like the pubescent boy he was. 

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, I’m just waiting on the other lad, Byron.” Scylla answered, and the boy nodded to himself.

“Of course, the name is Porter if you’d wish to speak it.” Porter declared.

_ Raelle where are you? _

__ “A pleasure to meet you Porter.” Scylla nodded, turning around and walking back to where Byron had left her, ignoring the burning stare she felt at the back of her head. 

When she returned she heard Byron talking fast, trying to soothe someone.

“She was right here I swear-”

“Dammit Byron! She could be taken advantage of in this town I-”  _ Raelle. _ Scylla watched as Raelle stopped talking immediately, Raelle’s eyes immediately jumping from anger and worry to concern and relief. 

“Thank Goddess you’re okay Scylla.” The girl quickly hugged her, scanning over her face for any sign of injury.

“I’m fine! Byron here got me out of the mud.” Scylla mouthed a thanks towards him and he nodded taking his leave as Raelle regathered herself.

“We uh, don’t have much time. You’ll be expected to appear before the advisors present today for court, let’s get you cleaned up.” Raelle informed and Scylla nodded, refitting her hand against Raelle’s, giving a tight squeeze to show she was secure before they headed out, navigating through the crowds. 

Once they entered the Fort Scylla immediately felt Raelle relax slightly, but Scylla was still on guard, her eyes taking everything in, memorizing all that she could. Raelle guided her towards a back area of the fort, which appeared to be a sort of barracks. They entered one of the rooms and Raelle immediately let the remaining tension out of her shoulders. 

The room was small, there were three beds, three trunks, one for each bed, and a small coat rack for the winter months. Scylla watched as Raelle rifled through her trunk, pulling out two more clean tunics. One was a dark brown, the other a light beige. 

“You can have your pick, unfortunately I don’t have many other colors to choose from.” Raelle rubbed the back of her neck and Scylla smiled politely at her friend, pointing at the darker one, it would do fine enough, and Raelle’s tunics ran a little big despite the girl being so small that it was comfortable enough for Scylla.

“This will do just fine Sire.” Scylla laughed, grabbing the tunic, folding it neatly in her arms. 

“Glad you’ve been appeased your Grace.” Raelle stuck her tongue out and Scylla rolled her eyes. “Although I do beg you bathe, you smell worse than I do.” That got a shriek out of Scylla, she pounced, tackling Raelle to her own bed who laughed out.

“If I smell like a pig then you shall too!” 

“A mere lass as yourself is no match for a squire of The Great Anacostia Quartermaine!” Raelle boomed, rolling on top of Scylla, trying to pin her. Scylla laid there, breathless for a few moments before in some unforeseen demonstration of strength, she managed to trip Raelle’s leg and flip them back over, holding the other girl’s wrists in her hands, effectively pinning them to her mattress.

“I expected better from a Cessioner. Pinned ya!” Scylla smirked, and Raelle lost her words, growing increasingly aware of Scylla’s weight on top of her. The two girls were silent for a moment. 

_ Don’t fuck up the friendship Collar.  _ Raelle chanted in her head, she swallowed thickly, looking up into her friend’s deep blue eyes. Truly a young siren in the making, when the door started to open. 

As quick as lightning the two were off the bed, and on opposite sides of the room. Both girls struggled to capture their breaths, Scylla finding the long forgotten tunic more interesting than the doorway.

Tally and Abigail both entered the room, and a knowing smirk plastered against Abigail’s face as she took in the heated cheeks of Scylla and the pleading look on Raelle’s face. She was just about to taunt when Tally spoke up first. 

“Court won’t meet for another hour, the bath is three doors down Scylla.” Abigail glared at Tally for a moment before heading towards her own bed, rifling through her own trunk.

“Is it time yet?” Raelle piped up, and Scylla couldn’t miss the way her voice had grown different, it wasn’t as soft as it was normally around her.

“Time for what?” Scylla asked, earning the attention of the room once again.

“Quartermaine to cut our hair. Cut away our past lives.” Abigail informed.

“Start the growth of our next.” Tally hummed, reaching for probably her best tunic a squire could even afford. 

Scylla searched Raelle’s eyes, there was something cold in them as she looked at the ground, the innocence she had when looking at Scylla disappeared for a moment, and Scylla frowned to herself.

“Speaking of hair, if you are to be at court you should fix yours.” Abigail pointed out, and Raelle seemed to reanimate.

“I can do the braids for you, after the ceremony if you’d like.” The air in the room seemed to still, Scylla wasn’t quite sure what for but she nodded, ignoring Tally’s smile and Abigail’s eyebrow being raised in Raelle’s direction.

The two other squires took their leave, changed into their finer tunics that had been made with softer silks. Tally’s was a deep green, like the trees that dotted along her villages’ coastline. Abigail wore a midnight purple, no doubt paid for by the Bellweather name.

“Of course, are outsiders not allowed to watch the ceremony?” 

“I’m afraid it’s just between the scribe and the knight. I’ll meet you back here after?” Raelle apologized and Scylla smiled.

“You seem uncomfortable.” Scylla whispered, and Raelle barely heard it.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful. I just, can’t help but think of my mother, how she must’ve felt for the cutting. I, I don’t want to lose myself, who I am to them.” Their voices were quiet, so so quiet that you could hear a mouse scurrying across the room.

“As strong and as stubborn as an ox, I know I haven’t known you long, but I hardly doubt you’d ever become lost.” Scylla spoke with seriousness, Raelle straightened up her shoulders with a small smile on her face. “And if you dare turn into a pompous ass of a knight I’ll put you right back in your place lass.” Scylla added, helping to relieve the tension.

She watched Raelle laugh and shake her head, offering her thanks before heading out of the room, ready to face a battle that for her, was more scary than the one she’d just partaken in. 

\-----

Raelle was shaking in her tunic. She missed her friend, Scylla was truly becoming one of the closest friends she’d ever had, and while she supposed she at least had her unit there was just something else entirely different about the brunette with quick wit that matched and surpassed her own.

When she lost Scylla in the swarm of people early today she about lost her mind, running straight to Byron, knowing the apprentice would help. They’d met at the same time Raelle had approached Fort Salem with the rest of the recruits for filtering. 

He didn’t want to be a knight, claimed it was a woman’s job, said he’d rather watch Raelle fight and relax back at town, charming whatever boys he could. They’d grown close within the few moons Raelle had been in Salem, and she would always stop by after an errand Quartermaine had her on.

She knew she could go to him and he’d help, and when he said he already met the lass she about cried tears of relief, because dammit she wouldn’t let Scylla get hurt anymore, not after what she’d been forced to experience. Their world was harsh, but Raelle wasn’t going to let it be any more unfair to Scylla.

Raelle fell in line next to her unit, waiting in the small room reserved for just ceremonies. How much the Knight took off was a reflection of how much the squire needed to learn, and Raelle was terrified. The whole meaning of the cutting was meant to show your dedication to the crown, to it’s service, that you’ve accepted your responsibility to not just your kingdom, but your knight, to your unit, to the commoners, to yourself. 

You were expected to carry yourself differently, no longer would Raelle be seen as a new squire hailing from the Cession. She’d be seen as Anacostia Quartermaine’s Squire, no longer virgin to battle, eager to prove herself, on the track of becoming a knight. 

This would be one of the most important moments of her career. 

She wished Scylla could see it.

“You three have seen your first battle, no longer are you just girls, but with acceptance of the cutting you are Squires, young women, there won’t be any turning back from this, you can no longer run away in the dark of the night, you will be storm and fury. Do you accept these terms?” Quartermaine’s voice boomed out, and Raelle stopped herself from flinching. 

_ As stubborn and as strong as an ox.  _

Abigail went first, her long hair cut to just above her shoulder.

Tally was second, she had the longest hair of the three and it was carefully cut to just past her shoulders. 

Raelle was next. 

Quartermaine stood in front of her, eyebrow raised in question. Blue eyes filled with determination flashed before her face. 

“ _ If you turn into a pompous ass knight I’ll put you in your place.”  _ The words spoken just moments before floated in her head, she trusted Scylla was right. She was Cession stubborn, just like an ox, she was strong, and more importantly her friendship with Scylla would ground her. 

“I accept.” 

\---------

Scylla smoothed out the wrinkles in Raelle’s tunic, making sure her belt was tight as she waited for the three Squires to return, for Raelle to return. 

She had scrubbed away the days of mud from her face, she smelled like roses too from the soap that had been left out which brought a smile to her face. Back home there weren’t delicacies like that. Perhaps she could get used to living so close to court?

The door opened and in walked Raelle, alone. Scylla’s mouth opened as she took in the young Squire.

Her hair was cut incredibly short, so different from the long hair that she’d adorned only perhaps a few minutes ago. A single braid cut harshly across the side of her head, the majority of her hair on one side. Though she was still just Raelle, awkward limbs and little muscle, as well as incredibly short.

“Is it bad?” Raelle asked, her voice unsure.  _ Still the same Raelle.  _

“You almost look like a knight, except you lack the muscle.” 

“And here I thought I was an ox.” Raelle laughed.

“Only in spirit.” 

Raelle moved towards Scylla, reaching to pull her own hair back but stopping when she realized it wasn’t there. With a shake of her head Raelle sat down behind Scylla, grabbing a brush and beginning the process.

“So what’s proper court hair?” Scylla asked after the silence became too thick.

“Braids. Having them shows your status, the amount is your experience.” 

“I don’t have a title-”

“Your bachelor status.” Raelle corrected. “Though serious lovers give a lock of their braid for the other to wear, that way no one interferes with their love.” 

“Oh.” Scylla was silent again, lost in her own thoughts. “And experience?” She felt a blush rise onto her face if it was what she thought it to be.

“Oh no, not like that. It’s different depending on if you’re a scholar or knight. Each braid in a knight’s hair is how many battles they’ve seen. I wouldn’t really know what the scholar’s represents, but when you become one you could tell me.” 

“I see, so having a braid at all shows you’re available, and each added one is the experience in your field?” Scylla spoke aloud, trying to wrap her mind around it.

“It’s complicated, but yes. I still don’t quite understand it.” Raelle admitted, almost finishing the light crown braid she chose for Scylla, it would be simple, nothing too flashy, just enough. 

“And lovers give the other their braid?” Scylla turned, looking at Raelle through her lashes. 

She wasn’t even wearing any makeup that Raelle had seen the people of court wear, and yet she looked like she belonged on a throne. 

“Yes.” Raelle swallowed, and then forced herself to smile. “Looks good, you’ll pass for a commoner instead of a pig loose in the city.” Scylla opened her mouth in shock, eyes stretched wide.

“Only you would dare to speak to a lady of such high standing like that.” 

“Forgive me your grace.” Raelle mockingly bowed. “Is there ever a way I could make up for my sins?”

“Kneel. Kneel and swear a vow of fealty to me knight.” Scylla stood, acting her best to appear as regal as a Goddess. 

Raelle looked around the room, finding a broomstick, she quickly grabbed it and knelt before Scylla on one knee. Making a show of drawing the stick from an imaginary scabbard, running the wood along the flat of her palm. 

“Lady Ramshorn, I, Sirrah Raelle Collar, am nothing but a simple Cession Girl, stolen away to fight in unnecessary wars, kneeling before you, swearing to protect you, your possessions, your honor, your name, your life, and your beauty if you will have me.” Her voice was in the same mocking tone she used to make fun of the older, more established knights. 

Scylla pretended to consider her words, taking in the sight of the young squire kneeling before her. She smiled.

“I will have you, and name you the highest general of my court! Henceforth you shall be known as Master Collar The Great!” Scylla beamed and Raelle stood, forgetting the broomstick on the floor as she grabbed Scylla’s hand offering a gentle squeeze.

_ Did Scylla know I meant every word?  _

_ Does she realize my vow is real?  _ Raelle thought to herself.

If Scylla knew that Raelle was nothing but honest she didn’t give it away, nodding her head slightly at Raelle, signalling she was ready for Court. She was ready to prove herself, in whatever way the advisors wanted her to. 

“Don’t worry my Lady, you are more than prepared.”

“I’m not worried, I have the most fearsome Master Collar at my side, nothing could go wrong.” Scylla laughed, arm folding in with Raelle’s as they walked down the long hallway towards the front of the fort. 

“But to be candid, I will take comfort in knowing you’re at least in the room.” Scylla bore her dark eyes into Raelle’s trying her best to show her sincerity.

“Careful my Lady, knights and people of the court are known to take advantage of such truths, and of those who speak them.”

“You wouldn’t take advantage of me though.” 

“No, I wouldn’t.” 

“Exactly, you have sworn to defend my honor, Master Collar. I would never know fear by your side.” 

Their footsteps echoed throughout the hall, both girl’s blushing, both girls incredibly naive, and one completely unprepared to meet her demon in just a few short moments. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapter count just keeps going up the more and more I write 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed! 
> 
> I wrote enough so I have Wednesday and Friday covered, we'll see if I'll need to do a new posting schedule after this week of school :))


	4. Court's Blessings and Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions and Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's... a lot to unpack here....

All amount of confidence Scylla had before entering the council room left the minute she stepped foot. There were two big tables, each on their own side of the room. One for the Generals, and one for the Advisors. Right at the very end of the room, centered between the two sides was a giant desk, one that Scylla assumed would be the Queen’s. 

She was by herself now, Raelle wouldn’t be here until the Generals entered, Sir Quartermaine being Alder’s ward granted her the right to sit at the Knight’s table, lending an ear and voice. 

The advisors had already arrived, and they eyed Scylla with curiosity, reading her form, her stance, waiting to see what she would do, how she would mess up. 

Scylla wanted to throw up. 

Her ears perked at the sound of the large doors opening, and in filed the Generals, their unlucky Squires standing behind them. Scylla searched for a familiar blonde, and almost let out a sigh of relief when she saw her. The girl gave her a quick smile, careful not to get caught and offered a slight nod of her head before adopting a neutral face. 

Yet light blue eyes stayed pinned to hers, tracking her every movement, eyes willing the brunette to breath, in and out, just like they had practiced beforehand. 

Scylla could feel a difference in a way the Generals looked at her than how the Advisors did. While the Advisors were more calculated, intrigued, looking towards her as more of a peer, the women clad in armor were sizing her up, seeing if they could teach her how to hold a sword, if she’d be a worthy squire to sire. 

How Raelle could stand it Scylla wouldn’t be able to understand. 

The doors opened once more and the room stood, the slow clicking of boots sounded out and soon Scylla found herself bowing slightly with the rest of folk, waiting for the steps to hit past her.  _ Count, one to and three, on that fourth step you lift your head.  _ Raelle had informed her, and so she counted.  _ One, two- _

“Rise child.” Scylla swallowed heavily, hands shaking as she looked up, meeting calculated eyes that seemed to be taking Scylla apart bit by bit, figuring out the girl before her. 

Scylla was beyond terrified. 

“Your Grace, it is an honor.” Scylla spoke, willing her voice to sound as confident as it could for just a lass. Suddenly Scylla’s station became more apparent to her. With Raelle she was seen as an equal, a friend, titles were thrown out mockingly, used as dreams for what they might be. Yet here, in front of a room full of women and only select men she was quickly reminded of what she was. 

A poor girl from a burnt down village, wearing a bowered tunic that was too many sizes too big, the only elegant thing about her were probably the braids she now sported. 

“You may relax.” A trick, Scylla felt it deep in her bones. Alder was notorious for watching her subjects cower, her rule had been for a long time, and there were many horrors committed that plagued every young girl’s dreams.

Scylla watched as Alder took her seat,her biddies each manning an exit, a window, and two right behind her desk. The room relaxed following her lead and Scylla allowed herself to catch light blues that held determination in them.

_ You’ll make an amazing addition to court.  _

“Who are you child?” 

“Scylla Ramshorn of The West Village.” Scylla swallowed, finding her voice, Alder’s eyes flashed with recognition, the Queen sat up straighter, she had her attention. Scylla didn’t think that was a good thing.

“Ramshorn.” Alder tested the name, tapping her hand against the armrest of her chair slowly. “Your grandmother served alongside me during the first strike against the Camarilla as one of my biddies.” Scylla forced her face to keep still, she hadn’t known about that. Alder watched her reaction before continuing.

“Interesting how a generation was skipped.” 

“Pardon?” Scylla asked, taking Alder’s bait.

“Why your mother never reported before the crown, you appear too young to be my biddy’s daughter. A generation skipped.” A small murmur echoed throughout the room, and Scylla couldn’t help how her eyes darted around nervously. 

She found Raelle’s, who while she seemed to understand what was being accused, looked more worried for Scylla, looked ready to draw the small dagger at her waist and fight. 

_ Calm down my ox, I’m a fox afterall. _

“Am I to pay for the crimes of a dead mother? I appear before you now do I not?” Scylla challenged. “Your Grace.” It was an afterthought and Alder let an amused smile fall onto her face. 

“I was not aware your mother passed in the burning of the West Village, my condolences.” Alder nodded her head in a show of faux sincerity. Scylla narrowed her eyes. 

“However, you must understand my apprehension. Specifically regarding your intentions as a traitor’s daughter.” That one caught Scylla off guard, she could feel so many stares aimed towards her, yet only one truly mattered, only one truly gave her courage.

__ _ A liar as well? Truly Lady Ramshorn you’ll make a fine addition to court.  _

__ _ Careful my Lady, knights and people of the court are known to take advantage of such truths, and of those who speak them _

__ While Scylla didn’t quite know her true intentions of being at court besides being there under a promise towards Raelle, she did know one thing. 

Liars make excellent additions to court.

“Why I wish to right the wrongs of my name. Honor is everything is it not?” She heard the knights roar out with approval at that, she could hear Raelle’s gentle voice among them, urging her to continue. “And I am eager to serve the kingdom in the best way that I can, despite a lack of strong schooling I managed to find many solutions to help with the upkeep of the West Village.” She heard the quills of the Advisors take notes, she was winning their little game.

Alder stared at her for a moment, face entirely unreadable. Scylla waited with baited breath, head held a little higher than what would probably be considered proper, because although their stations were vastly different there was one thing Scylla had the upperhand in.

She had nothing else left to lose, and had all the power to make Alder look like a fool in front of her own court, she could start the seeds of ideas into the young apprentices, squires, and scholars around her, let them see the atrocities and terrible deeds Alder had committed, slowly lure them away even if it cost her life. 

She was young, and angry, working the pieces of the puzzle in her head together.

_ “Traitors to the crown will be dealt with!”  _

__ _ “We’re just farmers!” _

__ _ “Please sire, I- we have a daughter-” _

__ A scream of flames flickering around skin, skin turning crisp, wails and wails of pain.

_ “We’ll inform Alder, make sure Sir Quartermaine finds and brings the girl with her.” _

__ Her presence may be giving Scylla what she wanted, but now seeing the demon in front of her a new idea sparked in her head. 

One of revolution. 

“Very well.” 

\------

Raelle had wasted no time getting dismissal from Quartermaine before she practically ran outside to the courtyard. She looked around for familiar brunette hair, stopping herself from running towards her when she found her, Madam L’amara was speaking to her with a smile on her face. 

Scylla’s back was turned to her, but she could almost just feel the other girl’s excitement. Raelle waited by a flower, it was beautiful, and had pink petals.  _ I should get her a gift.  _ Raelle thought to herself, but she frowned, she didn’t have enough money to buy what Scylla deserved. With a quirk of her brow and newfound determination Raelle plucked the flower from the ground, holding it in her hands unsurely.

Madam L’amara walked away, patting Scylla lightly on her shoulder heading back towards somewhere inside the Fort. Scylla watched the woman leave and took a minute to breathe, Raelle smiled and approached, the flower hanging behind her back, out of sight.

“Are you lost, my lady? Perhaps I could escort you back to the fort.” Raelle started, and Scylla jumped, she turned quickly, and when she met Raelle’s eyes her smile deepened. Without warning Scylla wrapped her arms tightly around the blonde, squeezing her impossibly close in a giant hug.

“Raelle! Thank you!” Scylla squealed out, and Raelle’s eyes widened, returning the hug with a laugh. They parted after a brief moment, and Raelle swallowed thickly, her heart beating quickly in her chest.

“No need to thank me my lady, they would’ve been stupid to turn you away, and your mind truly I wouldn’t believe you to be from anywhere else but the court itself. You handled them with such grace!” Raelle praised, and Scylla’s smile twitched. 

They were silent, and Scylla looked down to see the flower in between Raelle’s fingers, she raised her brows, watching as Raelle realized the brunette noticed her gift. 

“For you, I would’ve gotten you something else but I can’t quite afford-”

“Thank you Raelle, truly, you have my many thanks, for everything you’ve done for me.” Raelle blushed, the rising heat on her cheeks becoming something that she was used to having appear near Scylla. The brunette took hold of the flower, feeling the petals against her soft fingertips, pressing her nose and inhaling swiftly, a gentle smile at the scent that graced her senses. 

“Have you been informed who you’ll be an apprentice to?” Raelle watched as Scylla beamed at the question, pride rising into her soft face.

“Madam L’amara herself asked me to be her apprentice. She seems to think I’d be a good addition to the Necro program.” 

“The necro program? That’s truly amazing Scylla! With you here at the Fort becoming a Scholar I might just become a little smarter.” Raelle teased and Scylla’s smile dropped completely.

“Raelle, the program requires four summers hands on education with the Tarim, and then another after completion.” Scylla grew quiet once more, and the weight of her words began to hit Raelle. 

“Oh.” Was all she managed, running over everything in her head. The Tarim kingdom, their unsteady allies, lived almost two moons of travel past the Cession. Scylla wouldn’t be studying anything in Salem. She wouldn’t see Scylla for at least another five years. 

“When do you leave?” Raelle asked, voice hopeful that perhaps L’amara wouldn’t send her away for another summer, especially with the cold months beginning to come in, it would be harsh travel for the brunette.

“At the end of the week.” 

“Will you visit?”

“I’m afraid I might not see Salem for many summers.” 

The air was tense as the two girls processed their situation. Raelle was disappointed, how would Scylla keep her grounded, keep her from becoming a pompous ass knight if she was a kingdom away? Fear started to grow in the depths of her belly. Since when did she become dependent on Scylla’s company? Should it not be the other way around? The lady was supposed to be dependent on the knight. 

“I see. No matter my fair lady.” Raelle straightened, trying to lighten the air as best she could. “We’ll just have to make five summers worth of memories in a week.” Scylla smiled, and hugged Raelle once more, despite her own fear of being separated from what she was starting to realise, was the only person she truly felt like herself with. 

\---------- 

They filled every single second of the last week that they could with each other. In between Scylla settling into her new status, fetching books and supplies for Madam L’amara at one end of the Fort, and Raelle busy with training and learning different maneuvers with the sword on the opposite side, the two would always sprint across each end of the Fort to meet in the middle. 

Their middle was the courtyard, where a giant tree offered its leaves as a blanket from the prying eyes of nobles and others who dared to peak at the two young girls. They would spend hours there, gazing up and watching the stars, stars that Scylla was now starting to recognize, and after one conversation Raelle ended up stealing a training sword and started teaching Scylla basic maneuvers that anyone could quickly master. 

One night Scylla had snuck a book out, showing it to Raelle who stared at the words in deep concentration, there was frustration on her face and shame. Scylla had frowned, realizing that Raelle didn’t know how to read. The next night Scylla gave Raelle a gift of parchment, on the paper were letters, and how to sound things out, they spent too many hours going over and over the various letters until Scylla was at least confident that Raelle could sound things out herself, albeit slowly. She then brought a book of poems out, and would lay her head in Raelle’s lap, looking up at the stars as the girl would struggle to read poetry to her, Scylla only interrupting when Raelle couldn’t figure out how to pronounce a word.

Each drop of candle wax spent without the other nearby was spent in longing. Scylla could barely concentrate on her books, thinking about what she might pull out next for Raelle to read to her, or organizing the various novels in the alphabetical order that L’amara liked in her private library. Raelle had almost been stabbed five different times by Tally, who was a shoddy swordsman. Too busy thinking about if the technique would be too difficult for Scylla, who was proving to be quite the student, although she lacked much strength she could block and parry well enough that Raelle felt confident she could defend herself for a few minutes. 

After too many warnings from Quartermaine, Raelle was barred from leaving at night, but that didn’t stop the two friends. Instead they got more crafty, Scylla would throw rocks at Raelle’s window at night, when the fort guards left Raelle’s wing to signal her the coast was clear. Raelle would borrow Abigail’s giant black cloak, using it as a shield in the night, to keep from being recognized as she’d meet Scylla waiting for her right at the tree, their tree. 

They had been sitting down, Scylla entranced with a mushroom she found at the base of the tree, its curious spores jumping at the touch of her finger when Raelle couldn’t hold back any longer. It was Scylla’s last night in Salem, and regardless of her unrequited feelings Raelle had to at least say it once. She blamed it on whatever warm feelings had been pooling in her chest, their presence so foreign and new. So with a few seconds of courage Raelle spoke.

“You’re truly so beautiful.” Scylla’s eyes widened, mouth opening yet no words quite coming out as she stared at Raelle. The blonde took a deep breath, watching, her face unreadable to Scylla for probably the first time since they’ve met. 

Scylla looked down, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. Raelle liked the way it gave color to her pale face. She was entranced by how it complimented her, how she put that there. Yet Raelle was no fool, even if Scylla was feeling remotely the same it was no use. Scylla would be gone for so many summers, she’d expect the knight to blossom, grow into her own and bewitch women with her charming looks. It was with something heavy in her chest that Raelle felt the same way about Scylla. She hoped Scylla would find someone smart, not dumb and uneducated as herself, someone who could engage with her in the classifications of various fungi and all the other complicated words that spilled from the older girl’s mouth. 

Fate was cruel, Raelle decided. Although she took comfort in knowing that she’d at least have the knowledge of knowing Scylla in her lifetime. That she got to know the young siren in the making if only for a brief blink of her life.

“As are you, Master Collar. I have a gift for you.” Scylla spoke up after a few short minutes. Raelle breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that the girl didn’t make a big fuss, not that she would. The familiar playful title let her breathe. 

“How strange, I have a gift as well.” Scylla quirked her head, and watched as Raelle reached into her pocket, holding a tiny skull of some bird, a neatly lock of blonde braided hair securely placed inside. 

“I know it’s quite weird, but I hope it offers you protection in your journey.” Raelle whispered, shivering as Scylla’s fingers brushed past hers to hold the tiny charm in her hands.

“A braid? I thought that custom was reserved for lovers.” Scylla questioned, her eyebrow quirking up. 

“Perhaps in Salem, but I hail from the Cession remember? We have our own traditions. It should keep you safe as long as it’s on your person.” Raelle didn’t breathe, watching as Scylla inspected it closer, looking at the strange rune carved at the front of the skull. Then, slowly, a small smile appeared on her face as she held it up to her head.

“It is quite weird. I like it.” Raelle beamed, and waited with anticipation as Scylla fumbled around her pouch, bringing out a leather bound necklace holding a thin piece of metal dangling from it. 

“This way you’ll also always have a little piece of me. Whenever you see it, it’ll be like I’m saying hello.” Scylla handed the necklace to Raelle and watched as the younger girl inspected it.

Raelle rubbed her thumb against the grooves of the small metal coin. Engraved on one flat side was an “S.” Her brows jumped up, immediately wondering how the other girl got a hold of something like this.

“How did you?-”

“Madam had me running around Salem, I did a few favors for the Father and in turn he asked Byron to make me a gift.” Of course Byron, Raelle would recognize his work anywhere. 

“May I?” Scylla asked, pointing at the necklace in Raelle’s hands. The blonde nodded and Scylla moved closer, tying the leather around her neck, locking the clasp before straightening up Raelle’s hair. 

They stared at each other for a moment longer, the moonlight high above them, making shadows dance across their faces as reality caught up to them. 

This would be the last time they saw each other, this would be their last moments, last memory of the other for at least five long summers. Raelle would grow into a woman, a knight, she might even have a squire, she’ll have seen so many wars, so many sleepless nights. 

And Scylla?

Scylla would blossom into the Siren she is, her beauty would become her most dangerous weapon. She’d be an amazing Scholar, more than likely an Advisor with brains like hers. She’d have so many suitors hanging on her, something Raelle would never be able to be to her. Not with the uncertainty of her position, how quick her life could be taken from her.

“If you ever stop being yourself, find yourself turning into a pompous ass knight then I hope you will hold onto my mark, let it remind you of who you are when I am too far away to do it myself.” Scylla finally spoke up, her words careful. 

“It will be a blink of an eye my lady. A simple blink and you will be back.” Raelle smiled, and Scylla laughed.

“A blink of an eye and we’ll both be full grown. You’ll be strong enough to man my armies!” Scylla yelled out triumphantly and Raelle’s eyes widened.

“Shh! They’ll find us!” Yet Scylla grew a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and started to raise her voice again, Raelle, wide-eyed panicked and jumped atop Scylla, pinning her to the ground and pressing her arm against the girl’s mouth. 

She recoiled when the girl licked at her arm, her face contorted in disgust causing her to miss the way Scylla grabbed her, flipping them over under their tree so that Scylla was now on top of the pair. The wind left Raelle’s lungs as she stared up at Scylla, the braid the older girl asked Raelle to do the night before still tightly in her hair. 

She watched as Scylla scanned her face, as if she was trying to memorize it. Will herself to commit her friend to memory, the smooth planes of her cheeks, not a mark in sight, face still puffy from childhood. Arms just a bit too skinny, not quite enough muscle there yet, and limbs still too long for her torso. 

Scylla leaned down and in a moment Raelle think she might carry with her for the rest of her life, Scylla pressed a gentle kiss to the blonde’s cheek, resting her lips there for a second, feeling the warmth of the blush she’d created, before removing her lips hovering them just above where they had been connected seconds before.

“Allow me to be the first of many ladies of court to press a kiss to your cheek.” She murmured and Raelle couldn’t help the thought that jumped into her head.  _ I want you to be the only one. _ Yet instead of that she smiled, raising a hand to touch Scylla’s own cheeks, memorizing the soft skin, delicate blue eyes that were always so calculated.

“As long as you allow me to be the first knight to return the favor.” Raelle breathed, and Scylla laughed shaking her head yes

“Of course my friend.” She consented closing her eyes as she felt Raelle’s lips softly press against her own, they were unsure and sloppy like the teenagers they were. 

They stayed like that, two friends kissing under the cover of their tree in the moonlight holding onto each other, draining each last moment they could have with the other, staying that way as the night turned to dawn, and Scylla slipped away from the grasp of her knight, only moments before the first horn would sound that would undoubtedly wake Raelle up in a rush, she wouldn’t even have time to notice Scylla’s absence. 

“Be strong my little ox.” Scylla murmured in the morning glow as she stood up and walked away from her safety.

And if Scylla took one last moment to look at her knight’s restful face, if she took one more moment to press a gentle kiss to her forehead and promise of a swift return, well that would be a secret only the birds, worms, and squirrels would get to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the most fun ones I wrote so I hope you all enjoyed!


	5. The Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirrah Collar's Death, and Sir Collar's Rise

_ The First Summer _

That first summer was terribly long. The harshness of the winter months were used against the Squires, their knights immediately testing their abilities, seeing who could overcome their frostbite, sickness, the demands. They had been pushed and pushed farther than their breaking points. 

Yet even in the harshest days, toes numb and face stiff from the bite of the cold Raelle could only think of Scylla. The thought of the older girl practically warmed her, kept her being able to move. Just five summers, and she’d be able to see her again, it would be easy enough as long as she kept her eyes on the prize. 

In between training sets, when they were finally allowed to head back to their rooms Raelle would take out the book of poems that Scylla had her read. She’d mutter the words aloud, and when she struggled on one she’d remember how Scylla would pronounce them back to her. When Abigail caught her she taunted, claiming that they had better things to do then teaching uneducated front linesmen how to read, that if she spent as much time as she did with her nose in her book on training she might actually improve. 

Tally found it the sweetest thing. She’d sometimes sit next to Raelle while combing out her hair or restringing her boots, finding the way Raelle wouldn’t stop until she finished at least two pages a night. Unknowing that Scylla would demand to be read exactly two pages each time they met under their tree. 

_ “Read to me.” Scylla demanded, stretching out her legs as she re-settled her head in Raelle’s lap. “You need the practice.” Raelle grabbed the book from Scylla’s hands laying it on the ground as she took Scylla’s braids out, combing her hair with her fingers as she stared at the foreign symbols on the page.  _

__ _ “Must you torture me?” Raelle groaned and Scylla laughed. _

__ _ “If you are to be my General then you must learn how to read.” It was put simply and Raelle rolled her eyes at the girl below her, feigning annoyance for a brief moment before swallowing and trying to sound out the words. She wouldn’t dare tell Scylla that she looked forward to this everyday, although part of her figured Scylla already secretly knew that, and hopefully she thought Scylla looked forward to it too. _

__ _ “Orchids are white  _

__ _ Ghost ones are rare _

__ _ My type is blonde _

__ _ And so is your Hair _

__ _ Sunflowers reach, _

__ _ Up to the skies _

__ _ The mind is th-” Raelle stuttered, the word catching in her throat, she paused looking at it harshly, willing the correct pronunciation to jump into her mind. _

__ _ Scylla had looked up at her, watching as Raelle grew more and more frustrated before relenting, saving her knight in distress. _

__ _ “Thoughtful.” _

__ _ “Thoughtful.” Raelle tested it, and looked down at the word on the page. That did not look like how it sounded to her. “This is witchcraft, I swear Scylla I hate this language, it is far too confusing to me.” _

__ _ “Just because you are illiterate does not mean we must condemn a language. Keep going, you’ve almost got it.”  _

__ _ “The mind is, thoughtful _

__ _ And so are your eyes _

__ _ A birdsong is beautiful _

__ _ Just like you.”  _

__ _ “Was that two pages?” Scylla forced Raelle to look at her, knowing the answer already. _

__ _ “Please Scyl, it is torture enough to just read one!” _

__ _ “How do you expect to learn when you give up just as you’ve begun?”  _

__ _ Silence. _

__ _ “The next page, please.”  _

Raelle would sometimes go there, to their tree, stolen parchment and quil in hand, she’d sit at the base of the tree and try her best to write, Scylla’s gift of printed letters right beside her as she practiced over and over. After about two moons of her practice she looked less like a chicken scratching lines and had a more, legible print. 

She beamed to herself the day she discovered it, and when she looked up she could almost imagine Scylla leaning her head on her shoulder, a giant smile on her face as she would take in her work, maybe offer her a tease coated with sweet praise from sweet lips. 

Lips. 

Lips that Raelle had kissed. For hours. 

She’d been so nervous, terrified of the new feelings pooling in her stomach, warm fuzzy feelings and desires she’d never had before. And now she couldn’t express them, or even tell the girl just what she was feeling.

That’s when she decided to write.

Raelle would write in the cover of the night poems, following the way the author of the stolen book had done theirs. She wrote out her desires, her lusts and formatted them into letters meant for a girl a world away. Raelle hid them under her bed, praying to the Goddess that Abigail wouldn’t discover them, Tally would make a small show of it, but she wouldn’t tease, Abigail on the other hand. 

She had been losing her patience with the tightly wound Bellweather. The girl was so haughty and self-serving, believing she was holier than thou and righteous. Raelle wanted to smack her with the flat of her blade. 

On those days, when the Bellweather became too much, when life became too much Raelle would feel a weight hanging from her neck, and her hand would immediately find the coin necklace, the grooves of the “S” providing comfort, grounding her, reminding her of who she was, that in five summers she wouldn’t be alone, even if it was only for a day, a week, or a second, Scylla would laugh and smile and all of Raelle’s worries would go away, like the young siren in the making she was.

_ “What are you doing?” Scylla’s voice was full of confusion as she watched Raelle approach with two wooden swords in hand, she flinched slightly as one was tossed at her feet. _

__ _ “If you can teach me to read, then I can teach you another language.” Raelle didn’t look like she was going to budge, so Scylla stood, picking up the sword and getting into a stance. Almost immediately Raelle laughed, lowering her sword to the ground before running up to Scylla. _

__ _ “You’re doing it all wrong.” _

__ _ “What? I’m holding the sword!” Scylla exclaimed, and Raelle smiled shaking her head. _

__ _ “If you hold it like that you can’t swing it, it’s too stiff.” _

__ _ “Well show me how I’m supposed to hold it then.” Raelle swallowed and moved forward grabbing Scylla’s hands, covering them with her own, slowly moving them into the right place.  _

__ _ Once Raelle was satisfied she nodded to herself, raising her arm just a bit higher.  _

__ _ “Now relax your grip a little and there.” Her voice was like a whisper in Scylla’s ear, and it made her shiver.  _

__ _ They practiced basic strikes and parries that night, taking a break for Raelle to read and braid Scylla’s hair, maybe stargaze and share secrets and troubles, doubts and angst that clouded their brains from the day.  _

_ The Second Summer _

Raelle now stood in front of Abigail, anger rising in her chest as she held her sword in hand, grip tighter on the hilt than she should have it, she would’ve scolded Scylla for it. Her shoulders went up with each harsh breath, the air leaving her lungs in an angry huff as she stared the Bellweather down.

“Well shitbird? Ready to act like a knight or will you let your head still be clouded by some play thing.” The weight of the necklace hung heavy, and she should’ve touched it, re-centered herself, walked away.

_ “Goddess Raelle what happened?” Scylla asked with worry, rushing up to meet Raelle, eyes looking over her for any injury, Raelle was huffing, anger spilling off of her in waves.  _

__ _ “That Bellweather, thinks she’s so high and mighty because of her name. She wouldn’t last five seconds in the Cession I-” _

__ _ “Raelle.” The girl paused her ranting, Scylla’s hand on Raelle’s bicep gathering all of the younger girl’s attention and finally the hidden tears had threatened to spill from ice blue eyes. Scylla swallowed, trying to figure out what she should say, how to calm the girl in front of her. _

__ _ “She wouldn’t, but you would. This is her world, not yours, you must learn how to play their games if you wish to survive.” Scylla warned, and then grabbed her knight, pulling the girl close to her chest and rubbed circles into her back, listening to the blonde’s tears as they fell onto her exposed shoulder, painting her skin with the other girl’s sorrows. _

__ It was the first time she ignored the necklace. 

Raelle raised her blade and charged, the clash of the metal ringing through her ears as she swung, trying to strike, aim to kill. Abigail’s eyes had grown wide, but she adjusted, parrying and hitting at Raelle’s weak points. 

Both girls barely aware of Quartermaine's presence, watching them.

She was eighteen now, she’d still read, it was relaxing and allowed her to sleep, her letters were less poems of desire and more mundane repeatings of what her days were. Soon they stopped being everyday, and became once a week. 

Their tree was still strong, and Raelle would visit when she was too tired to be in the shared room with Abigail and Tally. She would lay down in the grass, right in her spot and pretend that Scylla was next to her. 

She clutched the necklace in her hand, tracing the “S” with her finger as she listened to the hum of the bugs, sometimes she’d join them and hum as well, willing them to tell their secrets. Perhaps bugs communicated? It was a silly thought in her head but she found it comforting. Maybe one beetle had met another, which met a worm that met an ant that had seen a glimpse of dark brunette hair and deep blue eyes that could hold the weight of your soul in them. 

Raelle would fall asleep, arms stretched out, reaching for a girl that was still so many worlds away. Lust filled her every waking desire, it made her uncomfortable and feel strange as she slowly started coming into her womanhood, still new to her first blood and all of the pains that came with it. 

_ “We’ll be grown up, perhaps we’ll run away!” Scylla spoke, her voice light and free as they caught each other at noon.  _

__ _ “Leave my sword and your books in the sands.” Raelle chuckled, only laughing harder when Scylla looked at her with a disgusted face. _

__ _ “I would never leave my books in the sands, they will have to come with us so you can read me poetry.” Raelle rolled her eyes but nodded, reaching into her pocket to pull out a chunk of cheese for the two to share.  _

__ _ “Fine, but I will get a large room all to myself.” _

__ _ “Where will I sleep then?” _

__ _ “We can share, that way we’ll have more room for my training regiment.” Raelle laughed out and Scylla giggled playing music into Raelle’s ears. _

__ _ “You truly are the greatest friend I’ve ever known.” Scylla whispered, before throwing a piece of bread at the knight, watching as the girl shrieked in surprise. _

_ The Third Summer _

__ Raelle was nineteen now. Her mind would drift to Scylla, but with the war getting worse and worse each day Raelle found she didn’t have much time for her thoughts, the only reminder being the heavy weight of a metal coin around her neck. 

She had stopped writing her letters, coming to them every few moons to leave little updates, small drawings that she furiously would scratch out with the rising anger growing in her. 

Raelle had seen her second battle, and her once smooth face, the one that Scylla had trailed her hands along that last night three summers ago was now marred by a long scar jutting from her chin all the way up her cheek. 

She stopped smiling, only taking joy and comfort in the presence of her unit, they had grown closer than Raelle would ever care to admit ever since Alder’s punishment. When they had lost a battle, the squires took on the brunt of it, and since Quartermaine had three squires it was three rounds of punishment each for every one of her charges. 

The war was changing them, ever since that last battle, everything had changed and in her night terrors she could always count on Tally to hold her tight, Abigail springing into action, her own trauma being alarmed at the sounds of Raelle’s screams. Her mind never left that battlefield, it was always playing a constant loop in her head, only pausing for thoughts of Scylla, the necklace acting as a barrier between her and her hell. 

There was a shift in Raelles head, and physically. She’d grown muscle, was more developed, she wasn’t quite done growing yet, but even her eyes had changed. They were colder, heavier, childhood innocence had abandoned her, like Scylla had.

Raelle’s dreams were still haunted by those deep blue eyes, and they played in the back of her mind when the ache between her thighs became too much, when the world became too much. She still somehow grounded her, even from worlds away and part of that angered Raelle. 

She missed Scylla.

She missed the taunts and misuse of titles and the way her lips had felt pressed against hers and Raelle just wished she could go back in time and force her to stay, runaway with her, but her vows had been made as well as Scylla’s own. 

And anger grew deep in her chest for it.

_ The Fourth Summer _

__ She was twenty. Scylla was a thought that came in her head once every four moons. 

Raelle had finally given in to her lusts, finding comfort in between the thighs of an apprentice who looked a little too much like Raelle remembered Scylla as. They were both fumbling idiots, and Raelle spent the night in her bed. 

She had woken up, a shriek on her lips that was muted by the lips of the woman next to her. Raelle thought of Scylla, imagined the girl kissing her had those deep blue eyes, but when she opened her own and saw the girl wearing her “S” metal necklace she grew angry. 

Raelle had ripped it off the girl, grabbing her tunic, barely tying her belt, screamed at the confused girl and slammed the door shut, swiftly heading towards the showers. 

That was the last time she spent the night in another woman’s bed.

Her reputation around the fort began to build. 

Sirrah Raelle Collar, her chivalry unmatched, able to charm her way into any girl’s delicates, will leave you seeing stars with not even so much as a note in the morning. The girls would always wake up in a cold bed, and blush later when they saw Raelle training or running errands for Quartermaine around the fort.

Raelle didn’t care about it, she had her fun and so did the girls, and they always managed to take her mind off of the battles she’d fight, take the nightmares away for a few seconds. 

_ “Would you give me your favor in a tourney?” Raelle asked, voice a whisper as she finished braiding Scylla’s hair one early morning they managed to steal. She had found flowers from the night before and knew they’d look perfect in the brunette’s hair. When Scylla saw them she smiled brightly and jumped at Raelle’s offer to braid them into her hair. _

__ _ “Oh I don’t know Master Collar, risk making you a Queen of my kingdom? I would lose all my power.” Scylla’s laugh was gentle, humor lacing through her words. _

__ _ “What if I took care of the military matters, and you made our laws.”  _

__ _ “Would it not make more sense for me to use your military knowledge as an advisor?” Scylla asked, looking curiously at Raelle. _

__ _ “Perhaps.”  _

__ _ Raelle finished the braid and they were quiet, listening to the rustle of the trees and the birds singing their morning songs. _

__ _ “Although Sire, I would only give my favor to a knight I thought was equal in my wit and worthy of it.” She hummed, picking at the grass, casually making eye contact at Raelle. _

__ _ “So not a pompous one.” Raelle spoke pointedly earning another laugh from the girl. _

__ _ “No, more reason for you to not become one.”  _

__ At the end of the summer Raelle and her unit had been brought before Alder. It was time that they became knighted. Raelle for the first time felt nervous, she looked across the room she’d spent the past four summers in and sighed. She would receive her own room, be assigned under a General’s command and start her new life, titled and entitled. 

Her nerves directed her attention to a necklace kept right by her bedside. It’s metal still polished brightly, the grooves of an “S” shining it’s comfort at her. Raelle thought of Scylla, and before she knew it she was gripping the necklace, bringing it to her lips and placing a gentle kiss before expertly placing it around her neck. 

She wanted Scylla to be there in some way. 

“You miss her, do you not?” Tally asked, coming to sit down next to Raelle.

“I haven’t thought of her in awhile.” Raelle admitted, not quite meeting Tally’s gaze.

“At night you whisper her name, hold on sister, just one more summer.” 

The throne room was magnificent, and Raelle felt that twinge in her chest, remembering the first time she had stepped into the room to be made a Squire. She was barely sixteen, and oh how four summers had flown by so fast. 

Her unit fell in line, backs straight, heads tilted. The perfect stance that Quartermaine would be proud of. Their knight stood in front of them, awaiting for Alder to begin the rite. Raelle’s hands were shaking, only comforted by the heavy weight on her neck and her sisters beside her. She couldn’t look at Alder without wanting to flinch.

“You have grown strong. It is not an easy task, nor an easy knight to train under and earn your place in this kingdom.” Alder spoke, voice booming and idealistic as ever. Raelle swallowed with anticipation.

“Sir Quartermaine, I gave you three pathetic girls, what do you now offer me?” Quartermaine stiffened, she wouldn’t say pathetic, misguided and headstrong maybe. Nonetheless Quartermaine took a breath, looking up at their Queen and stepping to the side to show off her squires. 

“Your Grace. Four summers of training, three harsh battles that lasted days in rains and terrible heat. I offer you three squires, young girls no more, seasoned by war, and ask in return that they are knighted for the benefits of the crown, and the kingdom.” 

“And have they served you well?” 

“I am jealous to lose their service, yet even I know that a cub can’t stay with its mother forever, Your Grace.” Alder seemed to consider her words and stood up from the throne moving towards the center of the room where the knights stood. 

As if there was an unspoken command the three immediately knelt, Raelle bowing her head as she waited. They had practiced the routine time and time again, the act of kneeling before a woman of power forced to become natural. Though it had felt natural to Raelle when she knelt before Scylla making a vow of her own all those summers ago.

Alder moved towards Abigail first, reciting her vows and waiting as their queen gave her a title and a command to fall under. She would be a blaster, front lines. Abigail arose as new, Sir Bellweather, the pride in her face readable to the entire room.

Tally was next, her voice shook with anxiousness but soon grew confident as she recited what they had been made to study for four summers. She was deemed a knower, a scout, she would ride on a horse in battle and work with the intelligence of the kingdom, with the scholars as her closest allies.

Alder made her way to Raelle, standing expectantly, Raelle swallowed thickly, drawing her sword from its scabbard and running the blade against the flat of her palm.

_ Raelle looked around the room, finding a broomstick, she quickly grabbed it and knelt before Scylla on one knee. Making a show of drawing the stick from an imaginary scabbard, running the wood along the flat of her palm.  _

__ “Your Grace, I-”

__ _ “Sirrah Raelle Collar, am nothing but a simple Cession Girl, stolen away to fight in unnecessary wars, kneeling before you, swearing to protect you,-” _

“Your kingdom _ ,  _ your honor, and your name if you will have me _.”  _ Her voice was in the same tone she had mocked many more established knights before her for using.

__ _ Scylla pretended to consider her words, taking in the sight of the young squire kneeling before her. She smiled. _

__ “I will have you, you will be a fixer, serving under General Wick.”

__ _ “I will have you, and name you the highest general of my court! Henceforth you shall be known as Master Collar The Great!” Scylla beamed and Raelle stood, forgetting the broomstick on the floor as she grabbed Scylla’s hand offering a gentle squeeze. _

__ “Arise, Sir Collar.” 


	6. The Scholar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss Ramshorn's death and the Siren's rise

_ The First Summer _

Scylla wasn’t a foreigner to isolation. Even though her family resided in the West Village, it wasn’t always that way, for many years they would move from town to town. Friends were hard to keep, or even make, especially with Scylla preferring the worn down books her father would trade for in the market at Salem. She’d never been allowed inside, always staying with her mother in the East Woods while they awaited her father’s return.

She remembered her parents reunions every time, the face of relief her mother had when she held her father close and tight, thanking the Goddess he was unharmed. Afterwards they’d motion for Scylla to join them, and the family would hug and shortly after her father would kneel down with a book, it’s subject different every time. 

As she’d gotten older her family drifted from the East woods area, taking a route through the Cession as it was just far enough out of reach from Salem. She’d seen mountains that felt like there were giants made of rocks walking around her, and trees so tall that if they’re branches were long enough they’d cover the sun from view. 

Of course that was the Cession in the summer. 

Now as Scylla looked at it she could feel the same awe and amazement she had at six years old, except the once lush forest floor was covered in snow, the paved roads that being near Salem had offered quickly turned into barely shoved dirt trails. 

She was travelling with only three others. All of them bundled up in warm blankets and cloaks. There was another apprentice accompanying their scholar, and Scylla with her teacher, Madam L’Amara.

“You’ll find it takes us scholars forever to get through the Cession as it provides many things to catalogue! Fungi grow here that can’t be sustained in the plains of Salem, and with winter hitting already there’s a different sort of magic in the air.” Madam L’Amara began a small lecture from her seat next to Scylla in the back of the wagon. Scylla nodded her head to show she heard her despite the roar of the wind. 

As much as she wanted to commit this new view of the Cession to memory her head was lost in her past, and of course Raelle. 

She found she missed the younger girl, she’d given her comfort, made her not truly even notice the deaths of her parents only two weeks ago except for when she longed to rush home, open her mother’s door and blab to her about the blonde. 

She frowned, her parents would never get to know the young squire who made her feel alive, who entranced her mind, like a puzzle she couldn’t quite crack. 

Scylla wasn’t stupid, she had put the puzzle pieces of her life together after her interaction with Alder. Her grandmother served as a biddy, and her mother skipped the call of arms. 

She remembered when they first settled in the West Village. It was right after they’d gone to the south beach for a week, they’d scouted out the village prior, taking a week while camping at the beach to discuss moving there, settling down. The idea was something new to Scylla. She’d grown accustomed to jumping all over the kingdom, she’d learned it’s paths well enough, which routes were quicker, and which were easier, she learned how to spot a patrol of knights, and how to use the environment around her to hide. 

Her parents had always said it was a game of hide and seek between her family and the officials of the kingdom, yet eventually that didn’t make sense to her anymore. 

They had just barely settled in the West Village, she was perhaps sixteen summers old when her parents finally sat her down.

_ “Alder is a tyrant Scylla. What she does to those who answer the call, what she does to those who don’t, her punishments destroy a person. We didn’t want that, and we didn’t want it for you.” _

__ _ “I- I don’t understand-” _

__ _ “We dodged Scylla.” _

__ The screams of her parents burning alive echoed in her ear. For the first time in her life she felt a rage she’d never felt before. Scylla’s hands balled up into fists, there was no Raelle there to offer her comfort, just a bird skull with a lock of braided hair to hold onto for the next five summers. 

_ The Second Summer _

__ Scylla had proven to be an excellent student, even better than Madam L’amara, who repeatedly asked Scylla to call her Izadora, had expected or could even anticipate. She’d task her with advance readings and assignment, watching how she’d struggle for however many hours, only to come back the next day with a well supported outlook. 

She’d be an amazing Advisor. 

Scylla found she was lonely. She didn’t have really many friends in the Tarim, and she didn’t have Raelle. Her thoughts always seemed to find their way onto the young squire. Though she wondered how much the girl had grown, eighteen summers old to her nineteen. It baffled Scylla just how old she was, and just how much she truly did miss the younger woman. 

She’d get small little updates about Salem from the merchants and knights who made their way up to do their duty tours and sell new goods. Scylla found she was good at getting information out of people, she learned all about Quartermaine’s unit. 

She’d been told small little snippets, about how there was a fight in one of the training rooms between a cession squire and high atlantic, how Quartermaine was slightly annoyed that the blonde squire could almost always be found at a tree out in the courtyard with a book in hand and a quil despite being told she needed to run laps around the town. It made Scylla smile, her little knight was still herself, still was grounded and rebelling in the small ways she could. 

She knew Raelle would be okay, that the girl would make a magnificent knight, her kind heart would put her above the rest. Though the blonde might’ve feared she’d turn into a pompous ass knight, from the way life had been going according to Scylla’s eyes and ears, the blonde had nothing to worry about.

They’d be able to resume their friendship, or whatever they were as soon as Scylla returned.

_ The Third Summer _

__ Fear. 

Cold, spine chilling fear. 

Salem had lost a battle, the knights who came to the Tarim with squires showed only pain and shame on their faces. When she tried to ask a squire what happened they’d simply shook their heads, claimed they didn’t know, or when she mentioned Raelle’s name they looked away far too quickly, making up an excuse to leave. Scylla couldn’t help the panic she felt, she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, a warning from her parents replaying constantly in her head. 

_ “Alder is a tyrant Scylla. What she does to those who answer the call, what she does to those who don’t, her punishments destroy a person. We didn’t want that, and we didn’t want it for you.” _

It was only after Izadora had found Scylla passed outside their small village, clutching a skull figurine with a lock of blonde braided hair in the middle of a winter month had her mentor written to Anacostia, with a promise of news on the squire as long as Scylla took care of herself.

She tried to distract herself further, amping up her studies, taking to teaching the Tarim children as best she could, a bit of a language gap which she quickly dedicated herself to learning. They called it mother tongue, and it was on hell of a language and it was truly demanding. The thought of Raelle trying to learn it filled her with a small laugh, no doubt the blonde would throw her hands up and curse the whole language and whoever decided that there should be multiple. 

She completely immersed herself while waiting for a letter to return. Worry gnawing at her in the back of her mind, as she explored the different possibilities that had happened. They lost, there were heavy losses, was Raelle one of them?

_ The Fourth Summer _

__ Scylla was almost complete with her term when Izadora called her into her small makeshift office. She’d made her way towards her mentor when she caught sight of a paper in hand, an open envelope was on her desk. 

Fear, anxiety, all of it rushed through her as she grabbed the letter, willing her eyes to read it over and over again.

_ My Dearest Izadora, _

__ _ I wish to console your young apprentice. I do not know if this letter will be in your hands as quick as I demanded the courier to deliver it, however I hope it eases the young lady’s mind.  _

__ _ Sirrah Collar is alive, she was with me in the battle, the second one I’ve endured with my squires. She fought magnificently, I would never tell her just how well she did. The lass even received her first scar from battle, right across her cheek! A mark I hope she’ll learn to wear with pride. She saved many lives despite our heavy losses, and it is unfortunate that a loss occurred.  _

__ _ I would not condemn my squire’s honor by repeating what happened behind the days of closed doors. That is for her, and her alone whether she wishes to speak of.  _

__ _ Though perhaps some comfort, your apprentice might recognize a necklace with a simple metal coin, it is always found around the squire’s neck, always a bit of distraction that gives her more laps to run around Salem, whether she does them or sits at a particular tree in the courtyard I would not know. _

_ Best wishes Ladies, _

__ _ Sir Anacostia Quartermaine. _

“I’m afraid that punishments are a nicer word for what Collar, for what Raelle most likely experienced.” Izadora’s voice broke her out of the stare she had on the letter, her head slowly lifted up, tears in her eyes.

“What did they do to her?” Her voice was cracked, fear running around her like wildfire, sparking up thoughts of burning buildings and sharp pains. Izadora walked over, opening her arms for her apprentice, a scholar to be in just a few short weeks.

“It’s hard to say child, they close the doors for a reason-”

“It’s torture!” Scylla screamed out and Izadora found she couldn’t quite disagree with the statement. “They tortured her for days!” A sob let loose through Scylla’s throat, tears spilling over the older woman as she held her close.

“They, Alder did it to Ana too.” Izadora whispered, her voice was heavy, and Scylla looked up, eyes red rimmed from tears as her lips quivered.

“She was never quite the same.” Scylla watched as her mentor had adopted a sad and faraway look in her eyes. “She used to always call me a station or two higher than what I was, we’d sneak out to the forest, we were two young kids in love, and then.” Her voice trailed off, and Scylla couldn’t help but remember their week of happiness. Running around the fort, sneaking away and getting into trouble yet being let off with barely a slap on the wrist.

Perhaps Anacostia and Izadora knew the two young girls wouldn’t be able to keep away from each other, just like how they weren’t able to. 

“Raelle is a strong woman Scylla. Ana told me herself before we left, just know that whoever you return to, might not be who you knew.” 

Sadness left, it left and was replaced by a blinding rage. Alder did this, Alder killed her parents, Alder tortured her friend, friend who she couldn’t stop thinking about at night. She-

A final piece broke inside of Scylla that night. The small fragment of Raelle in her mind was too far away to stop her. Scylla wanted revenge, she wanted liberation, she wanted and end to tyranny.

Scylla wanted a rebellion.

She did not yell for guards when a cloaked figure placed their hands over her mouth, the only light coming off from the moon. She did not yell when the woman removed her hand, nor did she yell when she was given an offer.

Scylla had nodded yes, agreeing to what the cloaked woman explained, and whatever chemicals had forced Scylla to sleep moments later, which she was determined to find out, did not worry her as much as when she awoke.

Right on the table in her room laid a dagger and a small strip of parchment with instructions, and a name in big bold letters, a target

_ The Fifth Summer _

She was fully a scholar in the necro division. Her new title demanded a year within the Tarim, learning what she could, it had proved beneficial to her and her new cause. 

Scylla learned after that first target it was actually the location of a Spree Cell within the Tarim borders. They were a group, no one knew who the other was, very loosely connected, yet all under one cause. The death of the Queen. 

She was given a short few moons of training, she’d use her guise as a scholar to take out small scale targets within Salem to send a message, she’d only be given a name, and was to carry out the task no questions asked. 

Scylla accepted, she’d fight for justice, for her parents and Raelle.

Her first target was a sailor located in the Tarim, she found the man in a tavern not too far off from the docks. Scylla smiled to herself, the weight of the dagger grew heavy under its cover from her cloak. Though the weight of the bird skull charm around her neck was heavier.  _ For Raelle.  _

She approached the man at night, her eyes like a siren, voice like one too as she gave it a seductive edge. His breath smelled of alcohol, and his grip was firm as he led her up to his bed, roughly she was thrown onto it, and panic had quickly set in, only her training reminding her to remain calm.

_ I am a fox. I am cunning, I am calculated.  _

His mouth had found her neck, and Scylla made a show of running her hand along his side while reaching for the dagger with her other. 

She smiled as the drip of blood hit her thighs, she used his shirt to wipe it off, leaving the room out from the back. 

The Siren was born, she was feared among the sailors, a demon walking among men and women alike.

That was her last summer, a slip of paper with a name, someone condemned to death, and with each kill the weight of a bird skull around her neck got lighter, and the weight of her dagger got heavier. 

Just as Raelle transformed into a pompous knight, it seemed Scylla transformed into the monster of the sea her name demanded of her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the fun begins...


	7. A Siren and Her Tainted Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two blinded hearts meet again.

Raelle had returned to the fort, clad in her armor, another battle won. Her status as a prominent knight within the kingdom was rising, just as her ego. It was hard to keep grounded, and her mind was always moving forward, to the next thing she could do in battle, trying to ensure she didn’t fail ever again. 

It was in her return to the fort that she noticed something was off. The week before the Beltane Celebrations was normally popping with energy, the entire kingdom excited, making preparations and buying fancy clothes to strut around throughout the streets. 

Though for the first time in perhaps two summers the weight of the necklace around her neck felt heavy. A warning calling out deep into her bones. She decided a stop at a familiar forge would calm her down, to be among an old friend.

“Sir Collar! Truly you’ve graced us with your presence today!” The loud voice of Byron yelled out as Raelle took the hood of her cloak down, smiling at the sarcasm.

“It has been too long.” Raelle relaxed, and returned the hug Byron gave her, he smelled a bit of sweat and coals from working the forge, Raelle frowned. “It’s not your day to work the forge, where’s Porter?” Byron laughed.

“It appears you have competition for the ladies of court. He heard news from a merchant that a group of scholars based from the Tarim are returning to Salem, they should already be here, right in time for your celebration.” Raelle wanted to roll her eyes, each battle the knights would be shown off by Alder to her ‘allies,’ used as eye candy and intimidation. Although normally Raelle was usually lucky to sneak away halfway through with a girl on her hip. 

“Scholars from the Tarim?” 

“Oh yes, in fact I believe I saw a young brunette with daring siren blue eyes-”

“Siren?” Raelle questioned further, there was only one girl in the world she’d ever give the title of Siren to, only one girl she’d ever described like that to the man before her. Byron quirked his eyebrow at her, and a smirk jumped onto his face.

“I may not swing that way but even I was tempted by her looks. She might steal your thunder tonight-”

“Dammit Byron was it her!?” Byron was enjoying the game too much, and let out a laugh that was going to make Raelle go insane, she had to know, surely it hadn’t already been five summers.

“She might’ve stopped by and said hello even! I will say though, she’s been here for maybe three hours and already visits me more than you.” He winked and Raelle rolled her eyes.

“You know I’m busy-”

“I’m just having fun Raelle, I don’t blame your busy life.” Raelle nodded in response giving her goodbyes and turned to leave, heading back towards the fort.

Scylla was actually here. A part of her that had been dormant for so long jumped back into life, a large smile filled her face that terrified Abigail when she caught her in the halls heading towards her room to change into a formal uniform. 

Scylla walked along the outskirts of Salem, not quite ready to head into her room and prepare for tonight. Instead she was looking for her contact, ready to get her hands dirty. She whistled a low tune, cloak over her head as she waited for the return call to sound out. 

She passed by broken homes with roofs that could see the sky, a few reminding her of the West Village, before the tune whistled back to her, there another figure in a cloak stood, a note in their hand. She raised her chin as she looked at the figure, barely able to make out their eyes.

“The way over is under.” 

“The way out is in.” Scylla responded and although the hood remained the person relaxed ever so slightly. 

“It is a simple assignment. Monitor the target, write down their daily schedule and report after Beltane.” As soon as the slip of paper was in her hands the figure left and Scylla looked around wetting her lips as she carefully unfolded it, almost dropping the paper upon reading the name scribbled onto it.

_ Sir Raelle Collar.  _

Raelle smiled into the sun while Tally spoke with one of the merchant boys that had come to the fort. He wore shabby clothes and dirt caked the side of his face but Tally was glowing around him. Abigail approached laying a hand on Raelle’s shoulder before crossing her arms.

“What ever has gotten into our girl?” She asked, laughing at the scene before them. Tally was a knight, a knight who looked more like a giggling boy in a fake uniform. 

“She’s finally matured.” Raelle mocked a fake sob, playfully wiping away imaginary tears.

“Ah, well if she’s anything like you were it’s a good thing she has her own room.” Abigail smirked and Raelle scoffed ready to hit her friend before Tally approached them with the boy staggering along behind her.

“Sir Bellweather and Sir Collar, a pleasure to meet you.” His voice was shaky, and both Raelle and Abigail looked at each other, a raise of an eyebrow. 

“A pleasure to meet you, sir?” Abigail trailed, and with a shocked breathe the man practically jumped, realizing his mistake. 

“Oh, no forgive me, I’m no sir. I’m a stablehand, work with the horses. Gerit Buttonwood, but please Gerit is just fine, if it, uh pleases sir.” Raelle cracked first, unable to stop the laughter bubbling out of her throat. 

“You can relax Gerit, I-” She stopped. Her eyes catching a flash of brunette hair that she couldn’t help but feel was so familiar to her. Her necklace felt heavier than her armor, and for the first time in over five summers her heart began rushing, rushing in the only way that Scylla had ever made it.

“Forgive me sisters, Gerit, I need to go.” 

Raelle bursted away despite the protest of Abigail and the bewildered look of Gerit, the poor stable hand probably thought he’d done something wrong. Though how could there be anything wrong when Scylla was back in Salem, when Scylla was back within hopeful walking distance. 

She followed where she’d last seen the tuft of hair, leading her through the courtyard, past two giant columns. She stopped, lost, looking around at her options, three hallways were open, she heard footsteps, and following the beating of her heart and the almost nagging pulling of her necklace she went to the left.

Raelle stormed through the halls, walking down the narrow concrete, past small nooks and crannies and the spaces between specific scholar buildings. 

_ The Scholar Buildings. _

Scylla was a scholar now. She had to be on track.

Just as Raelle was about to turn the corner again a hand grabbed at her wrist, pulling her back into an alleyway created by the spacing of the buildings. Her back was shoved against the wall, her armor protecting her, she reached for her sword only stopping when she heard the sweetest voice on the Goddesses’ Earth.

Her vision cleared and there, right before her, the world seemed to stop. Raelle’s heart stopped, she wanted to fall to her knees, and beg to even look at the lady before her, the woman before her. 

“Sir Collar.” Scylla breathed, and Raelle didn’t miss the way Scylla’s eyes inspected her, widening in surprise as they landed on her cheek, she felt herself flush with embarrassment, no doubt the scar was an eyesore. 

“Lady Ramshorn.” she felt like she was on the battlefield all over again. Though she supposed this was a different kind of battlefield. Deep blue eyes met her iced ones, challenging her in the way only one woman ever has. The woman right there, real, in the flesh, she could touch her.

_ She could touch her. _

“My Goddess you’re actually here!” Raelle cried out, she wrapped her arms around the shorter girl, crushing her tight with a hug that made them both lose their breath. Raelle closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of the sea still stuck in the brunette’s hair, smiling wider as she felt the girl squeeze her just as hard back.

“It is good to see you, Raelle.” Scylla whispered, Raelle found herself standing taller as they pulled back from the hug.

“I cannot contain my excitement, Scylla, I have longed for this moment for many summers now.” Raelle admitted her ears hot with nervousness, though a part of her felt guilty, looking into her eyes and realizing all of her mistakes.

“You’ve grown.” Scylla finally stated, she didn’t realize that she had to look up just the slightest bit at Raelle. She’d gotten taller, and not just taller she looked matured. Her arms were finally proportionate, jaw was sharp with a scar that kept distracting her, eyes fierce with battle, and many braids decorating the side of her head. She kept her hair short, most likely for ease in battle, Scylla had mused, committing every detail of this new Raelle to memory. 

“As have you, I can’t- you- I don’t have words to describe you besides one of the sirens the sailors of Salem speak of.” Raelle stuttered through, and Scylla laughed at the word siren as though it had a different meaning to her, though the sound was a blessing to Raelle’s ears.

Though Raelle had every reason to be unable to think. Scylla  _ had  _ grown, perhaps not in height but her beauty was beyond compare, it would make the Goddess herself jealous. She kept her hair down, a testament to her previous life untitled, two braids hiding in the curtains of her mane. Her eyes seemed even more intense than Raelle had remembered them to be, and her face was sharper, jaw rid of any baby fat she once had. 

A young siren in the making no more, for this  _ was  _ the siren. 

“I fear you have taken too many classes on chivalry from Anacostia.” Scylla groaned and Raelle bit at her lip, swiping it once with her tongue, effectively catching Scylla’s gaze. Her stomach heated, and she felt like she was practically sixteen again. 

“One might say she’s taking classes from me.” Raelle smirked and Scylla rolled her eyes.

“I’ve heard you’ve had many a conquests.” Scylla challenged and Raelle frowned, confused. 

“I, well I have been in many battles the past summers-”

“Battles of the flesh?” Scylla murmured, and Raelle caught it, it was just a short second in the older girl’s eyes, but it was there, a small spark of jealousy. 

“Mistakes, moments of weakness.” Raelle admitted, and Scylla didn’t miss the drop of her shoulders, and the sad look on her face. She wanted to ask her what Alder did, why her eyes weren’t as bright as she remembered, why even though she was with her again, even if Raelle had claimed she’d been waiting forever for this moment why was there still a sadness in her eyes? Though her own insecurities put up a barrier of their own. 

“And was five summers ago a moment of weakness?” 

_ “Allow me to be the first of many ladies of court to press a kiss to your cheek.” She murmured and Raelle couldn’t help the thought that jumped into her head. I want you to be the only one. Yet instead of that she smiled, raising a hand to touch Scylla’s own cheeks, memorizing the soft skin, delicate blue eyes that were always so calculated. _

_ “As long as you allow me to be the first knight to return the favor.” Raelle breathed, and Scylla laughed shaking her head yes _

_ “Of course my friend.” She consented closing her eyes as she felt Raelle’s lips softly press against her own, they were unsure and sloppy like the teenagers they were.  _

__ _ Carefully Raelle flipped them over, pressing Scylla softly against the ground as her hands carefully roamed, they were well trained, the patience a squire needed to have was proved as they kept themselves from touching anywhere besides her arms and waist. They kissed until lips were sore, and when they finally needed to stop, fear of the evidence showing up the next morning stopped them from pushing any further. _

__ Raelle swallowed, the echo of that last night from so long ago replaying in both of their heads. She wanted to say no, that it wasn’t a moment of weakness, that Scylla had been both her greatest strength and weakness since the moment she met her.

“I would call that a moment of strength.” Raelle stared into her eyes, and Scylla looked away taking in a deep breath to steady herself. Anxiously, Raelle ran a hand through her own hair, the free locks flopping against her face.

Slowly, Scylla lifted her hand, brushing the strands of hair away from her face, making it look all neat again before letting her thumb trace the girl’s scar on her cheek. Raelle grabbed her wrist, loosening her hold at the wince that escaped Scylla.

“Forgive me.”

“Are you well?” Scylla’s voice dipped with fear, and Raelle watched as tears formed at the brims of her eyes and slowly began to spill over, painting the smooth skin with salty drips.

“Scyl? What’s wrong?” Raelle released her grip to hold the brunette, cupping her face as if it were the most precious thing in the world, those Raelle felt as though she was cupping the whole world in her hands. 

“It’s, it’s nothing. I’m just, relieved to see you, it’s been far too long.” Raelle smiled softly at her, holding the woman in her arms once again, keeping her close as she rested her chin on top of her head. Unable to shake away the feeling that there was something Scylla wasn’t telling her.

Raelle held her for quite some time, leaning her back against the wall so she could support the two, her hands rubbed soothing circles into her friend’s back, listening to the tears, waiting for her breath to calm down, unable to stop the single tear of happiness that fell from her eye.

Scylla was relieved, seeing the one person she trusted most, trusted more than herself, being held by her once again? It was everything, and so much more all at once. The strip of paper in her pocket felt heavy, the dagger felt heavy, everything felt heavy, though the minute strong arms clad in armor wrapped around her she felt as though all the weight on her shoulders lifted. 

Both hearts hurt, both hearts longing to speak their truth, speak their love, but both hearts were stopped by guilt. 

“I’m afraid I’m not who I was when you left me Scylla.” Raelle whispered, barely audible but Scylla heard it, and the shaking girl stilled, pulling away from the comfort of Raelle’s ever present warmth to look up into eyes, frowning at the tears on her knight’s face. 

“I’m afraid that I’m not either.” 

“Perhaps, we may find ourselves again?” Raelle tested, and Scylla felt her heart rise into her throat. How could she tell Raelle that she could never be the girl from the West Village ever again? How could she explain all the blood on her hands, blood that felt meaningless, that felt terrible when she stood next to Raelle. 

“Together.” Scylla’s voice cracked, and Raelle smiled softly at her, unable to stop the smirk that rose onto her face.

“We’ll rip the stench of this kingdom and it’s horrors off of us.” 

“Good, because you reek of pompousness.” Scylla went to leave, leaving a dumbfounded Raelle in her wake. 

“Pardon me!” 

Laughter bubbled out of Scylla’s throat as she ran to the safety of the Scholar side, headed for her room to get things situated, a new energy rushing into her veins, interacting with Raelle giving her enough sustenance to last for days. 

“I will see you tonight Sir Collar!” She twirled, waving before leaving her blonde in the hall. Raelle shook her head, watching the retreating form of her Scholar, chuckling at the obvious bounce in the brunette’s step. Unable to stop as she imagined herself running up to Scylla and crashing their lips, carrying her to her bed and making love the way she could only do for Scylla. Guilt slashed at her heart of all the women before, reality crashing down around her. 

She was a tainted knight, drawn to a siren. Surely she would drown in sea blue eyes, and Raelle realized she would gladly die a hundred deaths if it meant the last thing in life she had was Scylla. 

  
_ Five Summers and Childhood Innocence had concluded. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As y'all know if you follow me on twitter (@PvtSnail) I literally wrote six different endings for this chapter before landing on this one.... I was just kinda unhappy with it, but I like this one a lot better so let me know what you think! 
> 
> I love reading your comments! They're definitely big motivators for me to continue :) 
> 
> Have a good day loves! ❤


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